


Blast Boxers

by Allothi



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: AU, Crack, M/M, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allothi/pseuds/Allothi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, written for a kinkmeme prompt (<a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/12989.html?thread=28901309#t28901309">here</a>): "Eames is a supervillain, and Arthur is the reporter he always kidnaps."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blast Boxers

Arthur whips out his moleskine and prays for the miraculous appearance of a microphone and a cameraman whilst The Forger dangles him over the edge of a skyscraper. It is twenty-eight minutes past eight in the morning. They have about five minutes by The Forger's countdown until either Chemical Yusuf (Defender of the City) surrenders himself or Arthur is dropped off the building, but Arthur is a professional. He's conducted interviews in stressful situations before.

"Forger!" Arthur says, because he's heard that's the way supervillains like to be addressed. "In five years, every plan you've had to take over Inception City has ended in abysmal failure. What makes you think today will be different?"

The Forger laughs, mouth broad and strangely attractive beneath the implausibly close-fitting fabric of his mask. "I'm a very optimistic person," he says. "And this morning I found a penny."

"What?" says Arthur, wrong-footed. " _Where?_ " He just can't imagine a supervillain strolling down the street, fishing a lucky penny out of the gutter. And he can't imagine there's much random low-value coinage lying around in a supervillain lair.

"Admittedly, it was in someone else's wallet and in the company of many lovely pecuniary friends. But I think that makes it even luckier."

Arthur scribbles this down, swaying slightly in the air, and adds some general notes on _The Forger, Up Close_ (broad chest, warm through the costume; smooth British accent; smells of woodsmoke and old clocks). The Forger tightens his arm about Arthur's waist.

"Careful, darling," The Forger says. "Wouldn't want to lose you before I've used you." He says it... flirtatiously. Dirtily.

Arthur's brain gurgles in an incoherent fashion, and it's possible his mouth follows suit.

And then Chemical Yusuf arrives, the day is saved, order is restored, and Arthur is not dropped from a tall building. And Yusuf only pretends, briefly, to have been killed by a deathray.

It's only later that Arthur reaches into his back pocket and finds an old copper penny he knows he didn't put there. He goes to put it in his wallet with the rest of his change, but he somehow ends up putting it back in his pocket, separate, instead.

*

At the news station office, one of the subeditors glances over Arthur's notes and says, "Hm." She eventually gets him to talk to the camera about his Traumatic Kidnap Experience. The footage doesn't actually get any airtime. Apparently, Arthur's not traumatised and quivery enough to make good TV.

The news stations all run the same helicopter footage of Arthur almost falling off the skyscraper, with an excellent view of the back of his head and his coat whipping about in the wind. It's not going to do anything for his career. (At least the coat looks good.)

When Arthur heads out for lunch, one of the news anchors shouts after him, "Be careful not to fall off any buildings!"

Arthur thinks that, objectively speaking, this joke does not deserve the loud roar laughter it provokes.

*

At lunch, Arthur sulks over his superhealthy superfood salad and triple espresso. He projects _do not come fucking near me_ and _if you try to share my table I will strangle you with your own intestines_ in a way that usually works for him, but Cafe Lento must be attracting a more suicidal clientele today. Within three minutes someone's put a big mug of tea next to Arthur's espresso and is sliding into the space next to him on the couch.

The intruder empties three sachets of sugar into his tea and grins like someone who knows a really great joke and has no intention of sharing it.

"You look familiar," he tells Arthur. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"No," says Arthur, because he prefers this answer to _the back of my head has just become world-famous_.

"Oh well," says the intruder. "Just wishful thinking then."

Arthur masticates scientifically-proven supernutritious wholegrains.

"The name's Eames, by the way," says the intruder.

"Arthur," Arthur admits.

"How d'you do," says Eames, still grinning.

"Fucking terrible," says Arthur. "I'm going back to work."

*

Arthur takes the penny out of his pocket that evening and decides he's going to put it in his loose change jar. But it ends up on his dressing table instead.

*

Three days later, The Forger robs a bank.

Arthur is one of the first to know. This is because he is in the bank when it gets robbed. He's just getting to the front of the queue when there's the sound of gunshots and breaking glass, and a very loud alarm goes off very loudly.

Three minutes after that, most of the bank's customers have been released, but Arthur is in one of the customer service rooms having a number of small explosives strapped to his body. The Forger is checking the fit of the straps round Arthur's chest. He straightens and adjusts Arthur's collar.

"All done, I think," says The Forger.

Arthur sighs.

"Don't worry, I'll look after you," says The Forger. "I don't want to blow you up at all."

Arthur says, "I am never, ever going anywhere again without a cameraman. I can deal with the loss of privacy. It's worth it. I _want_ a promotion."

"Oh," says The Forger. He looks thoughtful. (Or at least as thoughtful as anyone can look through a midnight blue skintight mask with mustard yellow accents.) He puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"I am not letting any more opportunities go to waste," Arthur says, absorbed in his career-related frustration.

With his free hand, The Forger rolls his mask part-way up his face so that his mouth and jaw are visible. Arthur becomes less absorbed. The Forger has a very nice mouth. And jaw, for that matter. He has a bit of stubble, which isn't usually Arthur's thing, but maybe Arthur was wrong (so wrong) about that.

The Forger leans forwards and whispers in Arthur's ear. "How about I give you an exclusive interview? Saturday night, eight o'clock, top of the Somnacin Tower. Assuming we live through this, of course." He draws back. "But no cameramen. Just you and me." And he presses his lips briefly to Arthur's own, and then he pulls his mask back down. "Now be a good hostage and try to look explosive."

"Shouldn't be hard," Arthur murmurs. He looks down over his current, pretty definitely explosive-looking state of attire. It is obviously this, his status as a human bomb, that's making his knees feel weak.

"Good man!" says The Forger, and leads Arthur outside.

The police and bank employees are quite struck by Arthur's now-detonatable duds, and immediately become amenable to The Forger's demands. They start loading a large amount of money into his sleek yet capacious supervillain's car.

A crew from Arthur's station are filming. They wave at him. Arthur does not wave back.

Chemical Yusuf arrives when the car is still only a third full. There is a complicated sequence of events involving martial arts, unlikely gadgets and humorous quips, and then the day is saved. The money is restored to the bank. The Forger narrowly escapes the law's righteous clutches. Arthur does not explode, and is eventually disarmed.

"Didn't I rescue you a few days ago?" says Chemical Yusuf.

"Yeah, you did," says Arthur. "Thanks."

"He must like you," says Yusuf. Then he turns to the cameras and flashes a V-sign, just like the latest limited edition figurines of him in all the shops. (The latest Forger figurines look like he's making an obscene gesture and are already sold out everywhere but eBay.)

That evening Arthur picks up the penny from his dresser and turns it over in his hand. He thinks about warm lips, a strong chest, and the possibility of a huge promotion.

*

"What's the best way to get to the top of the Somnacin Tower on a Saturday night?" Arthur asks Ariadne, his upstairs neighbour, the next evening over drinks.

"How should I know?" says Ariadne.

"You know about buildings." Arthur shrugs. "I thought you might know a hidden secret entrance or a way through the ventilation system."

"I'm an architect, I know about _designing_ buildings. Not breaking into ones that already exist. Why not just bribe security? And why do you want to know?" Ariadne says.

Arthur looks about him carefully. "This is confidential."

Ariadne raises her eyebrows. "Okay..."

"I'm meeting The Forger there for an exclusive interview."

Ariadne sits back in her chair. She looks at Arthur in a way that suggests she's thinking that Arthur is very, very crazy. Even crazier than she'd previously estimated.

Arthur looks steadily back.

"This would be the same The Forger who is the scourge of Inception City?" Ariadne says. "The one who tried to blow you up and throw you off a building?"

"Not at the same time," Arthur points out. "And not in that order."

"Oh," says Ariadne. "That makes a huge difference. My doubts about his supervillainous character have been swept away."

"It's possible that he likes me," Arthur says. Not because he is at all proud of or pleased with this fact and wants to shout it from the rooftops, but because it is pertinent information with a bearing on the topic of discussion. "And besides, this interview could be very important. I could get a promotion. The potential gains outweigh the risk."

Ariadne upgrades the _you are very, very crazy_ look to _I should probably have you sent to some kind of institution_.

"Well," she says, "if he does like you, find out if he wants his evil lair upgraded and give him my name. I would love to work on a project like that. And if he doesn't, then _I told you so_." She sighs. "And since you're my friend, when you go to your interview, bring a parachute. And wear bomb-proof underwear."

*

On Saturday, Arthur arrives at the Somnacin Tower far too early. He doesn't want to go to the top just yet since he reckons the longer he's up there the more he'll have to pay security to ignore him. His expense account will only forgive so many sins.

Instead, he finds a Cafe Lento round the corner that's still open though practically deserted. He orders a ginkgo ginseng goji and gooseberry health shake and settles in to wait.

Three minutes later, Arthur hears the words, "Hello darling. Fancy seeing you here," and, true to epithet, Eames the intruder slides into the space next to Arthur on the couch.

Arthur looks pointedly at the many, many empty tables and chairs all around them.

Eames empties three sachets of sugar into his tea.

"I'm waiting for someone," Arthur half-lies in the hope that Eames can take a hint and will leave him to wait in peace.

Eames grins the grin of someone whose relationship with the polite kind of hint is casual to nonexistent. "Someone attractive?"

" _No_ ," Arthur lies completely.

"By the way," Eames says, "is that a parachute you've got with you?" He points to the parachute pack Arthur has propped against the side of the couch.

And Arthur thinks, well, maybe the truth will scare this guy off. "Yeah," he says. "The person I'm meeting might throw me off a building."

"You lead a fascinatingly dangerous life," says Eames. "Though I'm sure he wouldn't. _I_ would never throw you off a building." He slouches back, sips his tea and looks disgustingly comfortable.

Arthur thinks about the cavities Eames is likely to get from all that sugar. It doesn't make him feel (much) better.

*

At ten minutes to eight, Eames finishes his tea, says "Well, must be off," and, absurdly, "See you soon!" and leaves the cafe. Finally.

Arthur looks from the dregs of his energy drink to his parachute to the empty space next to him and feels weirdly bereft. But he has work to do so he brushes the thought aside and heads off to bribe some security guards.

Ten minutes and three hundred dollars later, he's at the top of the Somnacin Tower.

Inception is a big, busy city with plenty of light pollution, so very few stars twinkle in the clear, black sky above. The crescent moon's quite pretty though, and all the streetlights and headlights and shop lights down below look quite nice.

The Forger is already there, mustard yellow cape streaming behind him as he looks out over the view. His shoulders are shaking a bit, and when Arthur comes closer he can hear that The Forger is breathing heavily.

"Wow, are you okay?" says Arthur.

"Yeah," The Forger huffs. "Yeah, I'm fine." He mutters something that might be _bloody stairs bloody costume bloody lycra_. But then again, it might not be.

"Okay, let's get this started," says Arthur, and switches on the voice recorder on his phone.

*

The interview goes pretty well. The Forger talks about his childhood (happy), his parents (law-abiding and middle class), and the three months he spend modding the international supervillain mailing list (" _Never again_ ") which is all he can think of when Arthur asks him about traumatic experiences. The Forger says he likes supervillainy because it gets him out in the fresh air and he meets interesting people. And he likes the attention. (Arthur believes him.)

He cuts Arthur off around the tenth or eleventh question.

"Sorry darling. That's all you get."

" _What?_ " says Arthur, put out, because this getting-to-know-you stuff is all well and good and saleable, and he can still smell the sweet fragrance of career advancement on the night air, but he'd really hoped for something that screamed _BREAKING NEWS EXCLUSIVE SHOCK REVELATION,_ or at least _HEADLINE_.

"Busy, busy," says The Forger, in about the most indolent tones Arthur can imagine.

"Oh, come on!" says Arthur. "Okay, one more question."

"One more..." The Forger drags the words out in an exaggerated show of thinking it over. "All right," he says, "I'll give you one more question."

Arthur looks down at his list. The next question he has planned is about The Forger's first crime. It's a pretty good question, it'll probably get Arthur some decent material, but if it's going to be the last it just doesn't seem big enough. He racks his brains. He thinks of that copper penny on his dressing table. He looks up and straight into The Forger's face and he asks what he wants to know most out of everything:

"Who are you?"

The Forger takes off his mask.

And Arthur's briefly stunned. Because, 1. He didn't expect to actually get an answer. And, 2. Seriously, Eames the annoying coffee shop guy? _Seriously?_

Then Arthur's brain gets back into gear and he switches to camera mode on his phone to take a picture.

Eames moves with incredible swiftness. He's up close within half a second, taking Arthur's phone and switching it off before Arthur knows what's happening.

"This is for you to know," Eames says, "and not to tell."

"But I'm a journalist!" says Arthur.

"Please?" Eames' eyes gleam, bright and impossibly warm. "Pretty please?"

 _Pretty_ is right. When he was a stranger in Cafe Lento intruding into Arthur's space, Eames looked obnoxious and unattractive. Arthur doesn't know how he did it. Perhaps the power of the chameleon is part of the secret supervillain skillset, since right now Eames looks anything but unattractive. And he's working _obnoxious_ like it owes him money and is offering an alternative payment in access to Arthur's pants.

"I should've recognised you by your mouth," says Arthur.

"You should have," Eames agrees, nodding sagely. He looks like he knows he's won. He hands Arthur back his phone, and Arthur pockets it regretfully.

"I guess that's that then," Arthur says. He's not sure he's really going to leave, but Eames helpfully removes the necessity of a decision, taking light hold of one of the straps of Arthur's parachute pack and leaning closer.

"You know," Eames says, his expression serious, "I really would never throw you off a building. I wasn't going to go through with it. And the explosives were fake." He tugs very, very gently on the strap. "I would never blow up someone I was trying to pull."

This makes Arthur feel foolish for having googled bomb-proof underwear. (It exists and is apparently a great morale-booster to the British military. But the package arrived while Arthur was out, so his _package_ remains explosion-vulnerable.)

(Now was probably the wrong time for Arthur to start thinking about his _package_.)

"Um," says Arthur coherently.

"Um?" says Eames. He tilts his head.

"That's very interesting," says Arthur.

The smirk on Eames' face annoys Arthur, and so he decides to get rid of it by kissing Eames extremely thoroughly.

*

Arthur feels distantly sorry for Ariadne when Eames's lair turns out to be in pretty good condition. The overlord-sized bed is particularly lovely. As is the jacuzzi. As is the bonnet of Eames's Forgermobile. (Not that Arthur supposes the car and furnishings are particularly relevant to architecture. But still. They're pretty nice.)

Arthur awakes late on Sunday morning, feeling lazy and contented, to the smell of something warm and tasty and the sound of voices, both coming from the kitchen.

"This isn't the best of times," Eames is saying.

"It's not like I had much choice. The hostage crisis is supposed to be this afternoon and my lair _caved in_ \--"

"I always said it was a bad idea to put it under a mansion."

"--And I tried to phone you and you didn't answer." The not-Eames voice sounds aggravated and also strangely familiar.

Arthur opens the kitchen door. Eames is frying pancakes. He's got three in the pan and there's a stack of about six more on a plate all ready and all-but begging to be drizzled with maple syrup.

Chemical Yusuf is sitting on the kitchen counter with a glass of orange juice and is alternately glaring at Eames and eyeing the pancakes speculatively.

They both turn to look at Arthur, and both of their faces suddenly change to display something like the expressions a pair of little children would wear if they'd just been caught running a three-year scam to steal all the other children's candy.

Arthur replays what he's just heard. And he remembers Eames saying _I wasn't going to go through with it_ and _and the explosives were fake_. And he replays what he's just heard over again, because he's thorough that way.

"Your superrivalry is a fraud!" Arthur shouts out. "You're both total fakes!"

"Erm," says Eames. "Yes," he admits.

Yusuf puts his head in his hands. "Look -- Arthur, isn't it? -- you need to keep this to yourself. We'll give you a cut of the merchandising profits--"

"You're conning the entire city into thinking you're a hero and a supervillain so that you can _make money on merchandise!_ " says Arthur.

"It's a truly immense quantity of money," says Eames. "You'd be surprised. Figurines, costumes, toys, stationary, _sexy_ costumes, magazines--"

"Toilet paper," Yusuf puts in.

"--condoms, lunchboxes, video games. It's more than I could ever make just stealing," Eames says. " And I have much more fun."

Arthur shakes his head. "I have to make a call." The word _scoop_ has appeared in a large font inside his brain, in sparkletext, with a sparkly border.

"Oh no you don't," says Eames. He grabs hold of Arthur's wrist.

"I really, really do," says Arthur.

"But think of the money!" says Yusuf. "I'm serious about that cut!"

"Please?" tries Eames. (Admittedly, he has good reason to think this works.)

"Look," says Arthur, "Eames. You are very, very attractive and very, very, very good in bed, and--" Arthur nods to Yusuf, who looks as though he's trying to think of a chemical that will erase what Arthur's just said from his brain "--I like money a lot. But my career is _very important_ to me." Arthur unfastens Eames's hand from his wrist. Eames looks sad. Sad and also very, very, very, _very_ attractive.

Arthur has an idea. It's such a good idea he decides to put it into practice.

"In fact," he says, "my career is so important to me that one scoop isn't going to be enough."

Eames starts to look hopeful.

"You're going to have to buy my silence," Arthur says, "with more than just money. I'm going to want prior information every time you two run a scheme. I want to be first on the spot. And I want an exclusive interview once every month. _And_ a cut of the profits on merchandising." He grins. "And the pancakes are burning," he adds.

Eames pushes Arthur back against the wall and kisses him like Arthur's never been kissed before. It's so hot the fire alarm goes off. (Or that might be the pancakes.)

"I'll just deal with that, shall I?" shouts Yusuf.

*

Later, they eat those of the pancakes that are not burnt. Pancakes probably do not constitute a superhealthy supernutritious breakfast but are delicious nonetheless.

"Hey, by the way," says Arthur to Yusuf, "did you say that your lair collapsed?"

"Yeah," says Yusuf, "it did. Completely. With my improbable flying vehicle inside it." He looks glum. It's understandable. Chemical Yusuf's improbable flying vehicle was black and streamlined and radiated cool. It moved through the skies like a shark and people said it had lasers. Even if the whole superheroism thing is a scam, Arthur has to mourn the loss of the improbable flying vehicle.

Still, tis an ill wind, et cetera.

"I know a great architect who'd love to try her hand at designing superlairs," says Arthur. "I could give you her number."

"Okay, thanks," says Yusuf. He takes Ariadne's number, and then he has to go -- something about a fitting for a new costume. ("We change them every year so that we can make more money on the replica stuff," says Eames, and Arthur wonders why it is that he suddenly finds unscrupulous business practice sexily appealing.)

Arthur leaves soon after to go to the station and make arrangements about last night's interview. He whistles happily to himself. The road of career advancement seems to stretch out before him, smooth and obstacle-free.

When he gets home that night, there's a supervillain waiting in his bedroom.

"You kept the penny I gave you," says Eames.

Arthur shrugs. "I thought it might bring me luck."

Eames kisses him.

Some time later, Eames says, "Your bed is quite puny. I don't think it's even emperor-sized," and Arthur hits him with a pillow.


End file.
